Don't Cry Over Spilt Milk

A few years ago I was in the midst of studying for final exams, wishing I could be out enjoying the spring sunshine when I got the brilliant idea to take the whole operation outdoors. I packed up my books, poured myself a bowl of cereal and balanced it all on top of my four-month old macbook pro so that I would have a free hand to unlock the door to the courtyard.

I made it down the stairs without accident or injury, but in an amazing display of coordination on a level surface I somehow tipped the bowl, drenching myself in milk and sending cereal flying everywhere. I congratulated myself on being a dummy, but initially I wasn’t too worried. I didn’t even think any milk had gotten on the computer—the books on top had hardly a drop on them!

False. 

I put my study supplies aside and went about cleaning up the mess without any worries. It wasn’t until I tried to turn on the computer and it didn’t start that a sick feeling balled up in my stomach. I took my mac in for diagnostics and spent the next few days under the weight of heavy dread. I just knew the computer was toast.

When I went back a few days later, I was surprised to hear them tell me it was the most extensive liquid damage they had ever seen. It didn’t even look like it had gotten wet! My heart sank when they told me they estimated it would cost more than $900 to repair. That was almost as much as the $1,100 I had paid for it in the first place. In my head I pleaded desperately to just be transplanted back in time a few days. I would do it all differently! I should never have used my computer as a tray. I could have easily made a couple of trips out to the lounge chairs rather than try to do it all in one fell swoop.

But it didn’t help. I still needed to address the issue of a computer. My crazy schedule often meant that the only time I had for papers and homework landed late at night, but the computer labs on campus were only open until 11pm and the busses didn’t even run that late (and as safe as I felt in Provo, I knew walking almost 2 miles alone late at night was not very bright). Renting a laptop from school was out of the question; the waiting list was dozens of students long.

The thing was, if I went ahead and replaced my computer, I would eat up the upcoming semester’s living budget, leaving me unable to pay rent or buy groceries.  I stewed on it, prayed and consulted with Heavenly Father. Was there some other alternative? A friend that could pick me up from school? Someone who could lend me a computer?

The more I thought about it, the more frustrated I was. I berated myself for my stupidity. I should have known better! It was such a stupid, irresponsible move. When would I ever learn? The inner dialogue was familiar; I'd given myself these same chastisements through countless adolescent screw-ups and perceived screw-ups.

Rather than improve the situation, my constant self-censure only served to make matters worse. I became sullen and stressed, demotivated and demoralized. None of it was helping get my computer back, and it certainly wasn't an ideal attitude to be taking into final exams. Finally, one night as I knelt in prayer, I felt the following words come to my mind: "Be kind to yourself. There is no expectation that you go through life without making mistakes."

Later, I came across a verse of scripture that spoke to me. "Whosoever shall put their trust in God shall be supported in their trials..." I felt a distinct impression that made me confident that somehow- somehow- Heavenly Father would help me out. I just didn't know how. After some intense contemplation, I decided buying the new computer was what I needed to do. 

The very next day, I was surprised to find my bank account topped back up to the pre-purchase level. There must be some mistake, I thought. But no, there was the charge for the computer… and then, a direct deposit from BYU. Curious! I logged into my campus financial center and found a message.

“Congratulations,” it said. “Due to another student being unable to accept the Communications talent award, you have been awarded a half tuition scholarship”.  Total award: $1,100.

The exact amount of the new computer.

I was just like:

For reals... Oh Em Gee!

I knew it was no coincidence; though, as a friend once told me, coincidence is just God’s way of staying anonymous anyhow. I was flooded with relief and euphoria, but most of all, gratitude. 

I had made a foolish decision with fairly severe financial consequences, but Heavenly Father had still seen fit to bless me. Not only had He taken care of my temporal needs by providing a replacement for what I had to spend to replace my computer, but the hard drive from my old computer wasn’t damaged. None of what mattered to me most—my pictures, music and other files—had been destroyed. I didn’t lose a single photo, song or assignment. I felt His love acutely.

I finally understood that old idiom “Don’t cry over spilt milk”. It does no good to castigate yourself or get upset about making a mistake, because ultimately, you can’t change it. You can’t get hung up on the “could haves” or the “should haves”. All you can do is recognize your mistake, learn from it, make appropriate amends if it adversely affects someone else, and move forward.

I have never again carried a bowl of cereal on top of my computer.

The funny thing is that hasn’t made me immune to the dangers of spilt milk. A few months after I replaced my computer I hosted a book club meeting with milk and cookies. I took great care to keep my glass of milk far from the computer, which was open on the coffee table with the discussion questions for our book.

Of course, that didn’t stop someone else from putting their glass on the coffee table and promptly tipping it over, sending a wash of cold, white fluid across the table, under and around my computer. “Not again!” I screamed in my mind as I jumped up to retrieve my computer and bolted into the kitchen to dry it off. I was perilously close to literally crying over spilt milk this time.

With the traumatized fear and fervor of a first-time mother fawning over her toddler’s scraped knee, I inspected every inch of the computer, my heart tapping an insistent staccato beat against my chest.

Fortunately, the computer came out unscathed.

The point here is that even if it hadn’t, “Don’t cry over spilt milk” applies to other people too. It wouldn’t have done me any good to think about what the other individual could have or should have done differently. No amount of contrition on her part or anger on mine could have fixed the computer if it had been damaged. I would have had every right to feel upset by the consequences of that mistake, but I couldn’t have held it against her, especially if she sincerely apologized or made an offer to help me procure a replacement. After all, it was an accident, an unintended mistake.

So to recap, here's what I learned:

1.  Milk and electronics don't mix

2. God loves us, and He works in mysterious ways to extend tender mercies when we are in need.

3. Don’t be too hard on others for their mistakes, be willing to forgive and move on... and extend yourself the same kindness.